


Persistence of Memory

by The_Heart_of_Leo



Category: Power Rangers (Boom! Comics), Power Rangers Dino Charge
Genre: Alternative Timeline, Angst, Blink and you'll miss it, Character Death, Gen, Guilt, He just wants to help, Heckyl's trying his best okay, Koda/Phillip is implied, Lot of character death here and their deaths are a bit graphic, Magic, Memories, Resurrection, Shattered Grid, Survivor Guilt, but they got better, except they did, no one actually dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 18:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19750996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Heart_of_Leo/pseuds/The_Heart_of_Leo
Summary: After the Morphing Grid is restored, the Rangers who lost are given another chance. Heckyl just wants to make sure the memories stay where they belong - in the past - and let them live their lives in peace, away from the evil and darkness that had cost them all so very much...But Memories are eternal. They leave their scars not just in a person's mind, not even in just their souls, but on the universe itself. Memories demand to be remembered, no matter what, and not even they can escape it. After all, no one wants to remember their deaths, not even Rangers.





	Persistence of Memory

**Author's Note:**

> So I read Shattered Grid and got inspired.

Once something is broken, it can never be put back together exactly as it was.

That was the warning they had all been given when the multiverse was reinstated and when those who had been lost had found a way to return. Those whose power was stolen were given their second chance as well as something close enough to home to return to. The Solar Rangers, their purpose complete for now, had disbanded and joined their first families where they belonged.

For the most part.

Heckyl could and would argue that he didn’t really belong anywhere. Sentai 6 was safer with him gone, no matter the time period. Amber Beach was the closest place to a home he had left, the only place he had left.

 _“‘Home is the place that, when you have to go there, they have to take you in’,”_ Kimberly, meaning well, had told him.

“ _Then I really have nowhere to go.”_ She had punched his arm for that but he had gone back ‘home’ to the Dino Charge Rangers. _“Oh, I guess I can watch over those idiots for a little while. Who knows what’ll happen if they’re left unsupervised.”_

That was the kicker, of course. The Solar Rangers might have returned to their original squads but it was for a purpose.

They were the Sentries — or Keepers if you had Heckyl’s more morbid sense of humor. They were to watch over their Rangers and smooth over whatever cracks, nicks, and scars the rebirth of their universe might have left behind.

The Dino Charge Rangers had no memory of Lord Drakkon, of being ripped away from their world, of losing everything. They had returned home and woke up in their beds with no clue that the world had ended or even that anything as dramatic as the ruin of all they knew and loved had occurred. They didn’t even question Heckyl’s miraculous return as the Dark Ranger ( _‘Oh, Zenowing and I found a way to control it. No big deal!’_ It wasn’t, technically, a lie if one overlooked that it was a complete lie.)

It took Heckyl a few weeks to truly notice the difference in some of his new/old/new friends. He didn’t really have the require acquaintance needed at first but the others did. They noticed how tired their companions were, how their edges were starting to fray, how something lurked behind their eyes. They brought it up to their friends, they brought it up to him, they did the whole hand-holding, singing campfire songs, reassurance thing the Rangers always seemed prone to do.

It didn’t help.

It didn’t help because those affected didn’t know what was wrong. They didn’t remember but he did. It was only when he stopped to look, to remember, that the answer to what was wrong with half of their team became clear.

He couldn’t help but wonder if the other Solar Rangers were dealing with this particular curveball.

They weren’t meant to remember anything and, by all accounts, they didn’t… but something always lingers — the universe, the soul, ghosts in the Morphing Grid… something always remembers and memories want to be remembered.

The problem was: no one wants to remember their deaths, not even Rangers.

It took Heckyl a few attempts to get the rituals right at first, to figure out what he needs to do to ease his friends’ strain. It was horrific at first but it got easier every time.

The circle was cast around him, candles lit — both for their light and the aesthetics, people always overlook the aesthetics that come with magic — and he was laid out in the center, a pillow cradling his head, and focused. He felt for the warm glow in his chest, the place he knew that connected him to the other Rangers. He visualized floating through a dark void, drawn by their light until he found himself in the midst of their glowing strands, all connected to each other, to him, to the Grid. The strings weren’t really there, of course, just another trick to make this job a bit easier, as was the color each strand glowed.

He studied the web for a moment. Most of them were shining as bright as stars on snow but a few of them… flickered. He frowned. He should have started sooner. They were already remembering. He reached out to one of the strands and, closing his eyes, let it take him to its owner.

He always started with Prince Phillip. The Graphite Ranger had been the first to fall to Drakkon and his memory of it was, arguably, one of the worst. His death had not been quick.

It was absurdly obvious, looking back, that the Graphite Ranger had always been the weakest link. Not that the prince was weak or a bad Ranger — quite the contrary — but his weakness was external: he was alone. Whenever the other Rangers needed him, he had to travel halfway across the world to join them. It was a time-consuming task and one Heckyl was glad Snide, Sledge, himself, or any of the others had never pieced together: He was the single Ranger who could not get the backup he needed in time for it to matter. Oh, yes, they had overlooked that but Drakkon had not.

_Heckyl opened his eyes to a warzone. The sky was gray with smoke, so thick as to be cloying. The streets were littered with rubble from buildings that had collapsed as ash fell over the ruins. Screams came from every direction, some pleading for assistance in a language he didn’t know, some just screaming in pain and terror._

_And in front of him was the Graphite Ranger, the suit covered in scorch marks and tears. The prince was holding his side, his breathing heavy and pained. The suit glowed around the tears, seconds away from dematerializing. The battle was already reaching its end._

_He winced. He was later than he meant to be. He always tried to get to his friends before the memories progressed too much, to lessen the impact the forgotten memories had. He didn’t have much time now._

_“My patience is growing thin, boy.” Heckyl couldn’t help but grimace at the hated voice. The Ranger, if you could call him that, in white and green stalked forward, his predatory gait only hinting at how dangerous the man truly was. “Hand over your Morpher.”_

_Heckyl focused on his surroundings, willing the changes to happen. Snow that was once ash drifted down from the sky as Graphite Ranger climbed back to his feet, the Morpher in his hand. No one noticed the change. No one noticed him — he wasn’t part of the memory, he didn’t belong, he didn’t exist._

_The gray of the prince’s uniform finally faded away, the power too drained to sustain itself. Phillip stood, his head held high even with one arm wrapped tightly around his chest. Blood covered the right side of his face, gushing from not only a cut on his temple but from his nose and lips as well. Dirt and bruises covered the rest of his face. He raised the Morpher and fired once, twice, three times to no avail. Each blast effortlessly knocked aside. He lowered the Morpher._

_He didn’t notice the slow collapse of the city around him, changing from mounds of broken cement, stone, and iron to gently rolling hills all covered in white._

_“You will not lay a hand on this Morpher,” Phillip swore. The Morpher fell from his hand to clatter on the ground. With his hand now free, he pulled the Graphite Energem from under his torn and ruined suit. Lord Drakkon paused for a moment as the gem glowed as its power was called forth by its owner. The prince held the gem out toward the Morpher and —_

_“No!”_

_The energy from the gem shattered the gun into dust. Phillip barely had time to duck as Drakkon’s sword flashed toward him. He didn’t have time to avoid the kick. He landed a few yards away, clutching his ribs. The prince climbed to his knees, drew back his arm and, with the last of his strength, sent the Energem flying. The gem glowed and then sped away in a burst of glittering gray energy, hiding itself away once again._

_“That was a mistake.” Drakkon approached, his sword sparkling along the ruined pavement toward the former Graphite Ranger. “You’ve only delayed me.”_

_The dream wasn’t ready yet, not entirely, but Heckyl didn’t have any more time. The snow picked up around them, whiting out all but the three of them. Lord Drakkon was only a few feet away now. Heckyl walked through him, a ghost in a world of ghosts, and knelt down in front of Phillip._

__“You’re holding us up, Princey,” he tutted, shaking his head.

Phillip frowned at him, confused. _He stared through him as the evil ranger that had destroyed his capital city approached him._

 __Heckyl reached out a hand, focusing on the duality that saw him.

“What…?”

“We were going ice skating,” Heckyl rolled his eyes, exasperated. “I know for a fact that humans are aware of the sport.”

Gray eyes blinked in confusion, trying to remember. _Gray eyes stared up as a shadow loomed over him._ Heckyl reached forward and grabbed Phillip’s hand. The confusion fell away as he was pulled to his feet, away from the memory that remained.

“Right. Of course,” Phillip shook his head as though clearing out the fog from his brain. “I must have forgotten.”

“When was the last time you had a break?” Heckyl tutted, pulling the prince away from the memory. He knew the memory was still playing behind them, could still hear the voices, and he knew how it would end though the prince was now oblivious to it. __

_“You are brave, I’ll give you that,” Lord Drakkon said. There was the sharp gasp as the memory Phillip’s head was pulled back, his throat exposed. “A shame really. But, in the end, what is a prince compared to a god?”_

Heckyl couldn’t help a wince. He heard the cut of the blade, heard the gurgle of blood that was gushing out of the memory’s slashed throat, heard the cry of disbelief and loss as the other Dino Charge Rangers arrived seconds too late.

He tightened his grip on the real — on the _alive_ — Phillip’s hand and tugged him out onto the ice, gliding away.

* * *

_He felt strong — stronger than he’s ever felt before — and oh-so-clever. He knew what to expect now, had felt the power of the Dark Energem before only now it worked for him. He’d use the power for good, to save his planet and the people he loved more than he had ever loved anything. He could do it this time…_

* * *

As he followed the gold thread the surroundings barely changed from Phillip’s memory, only the perspective.

_They stood in the courtyard, shocked motionless. They arrived in time to see the streak of gray light as the Graphite Energem was cast off. They arrived to see Phillip, demorphed and powerless on his knees. They arrived in time to see the cascade of blood as this strange new monster murdered their friend._

_Heckyl grabbed Ivan’s arm, pulling him back as the memory surged forward with a scream that spoke of anger, vengeance, and grief. A knight who had failed in his duty. The memory of the Gold Ranger attacked their friend’s attacker, making attack after attack as the others gathered around the dying prince who was now drowning in his own blood. Despite the gore, the Blue Ranger cradled the prince though there was nothing to be done but offer comfort in the few moments left._

“Sir Ivan,” Heckyl said, giving the arm in his grasp a squeeze, pulling the other Ranger’s attention to him. “Are you going to fence with me or not?” Ivan stared at him, the deep dark eyes confused. He glanced back through the snow-ash, toward the sound of swords clashing, of enraged yells, and the grunting laughter of their ultimate monster.  
_  
The sound of metal striking metal filled the air until it didn’t, making the silence around them all that more obvious. Ivan took a step forward, almost pulling away from him if Heckyl hadn’t tightened his grip._

_Across the way, through a screen of white that only revealed shadows, they could see that the fight was over. A shimmer of gold on their knees, a large, sharp shape protruding from the chest. There was no mistaking what had just happened. The dark figure, barely visible through the fog of memory and snow, loomed over the fallen knight before claiming his prize. The flash of gold as the Morpher and Gold Energem were taken._

Heckyl struck out, aiming for the still-living Ivan’s head and connecting.

“Ow!” Ivan turned to glare at Heckyl, unable to hide the look of betrayal from crossing his handsome face. Heckyl pointed the foam sword at his face. The knight stared at him in confusion then looked at their surroundings. The snow was drifting peacefully down around them. They were in a small field, surrounded by creatures he only knew from myth. 

“So I get the first point, right?” Heckyl asked, grinning as he waved the tip of the toy sword just in front of the knight’s nose, drawing his attention back. There was a spattering of laughter from the group surrounding them, making up their makeshift arena. A few of the gnomes climbed onto a centaur’s back to get a better view. They cheered for the Knight of Zandar, urging him to give Heckyl ‘a good one-two!’. 

“Oh, hardly!” Ivan puffed out his chest, emboldened by the cheers and miffed at the suggestion that trickery be rewarded, especially at his expense. He lifted his own foam sword and moved into position with the look of one who knew their skill to be superior. “Foul Rogue! I will show you true swordsmanship! En garde!”

* * *

_“One does not smelt swords, unless one plans —” Heckyl charged forward, immense power thrumming through his veins, more powerful than his magic, more powerful than pain. He grabbed at Lord Arcanon, the momentum of his attack throwing them both through space. “— for war.”_

_He would finish this. The destruction of Sentai 6, the creation of Snide, the feeling of losing himself… no, never again._

_He felt the hand grab his throat, felt the pressure cutting through him, both from without and from within._

_“Give me… the Dark Energem —”_

_The power surged through him, almost tearing him apart, and struck Lord Arcanon full force. The monster was vaulted away from him, the dark energy that had been in Heckyl’s veins just seconds before now ripping through the being that had ruined his life._

_“I might die from the thing you have_ unleashed _, boy…”_

* * *

With the pink and black strands came a mild change in scenery but only just. Smoke still choked the air, the cries of innocent civilians close to deafening. They were still in Zandar, still holding the fort but it was a losing battle. Heckyl stood on the rooftop and watched the destruction below, colors of light blasting through the gray smoke as Lord Drakkon’s troops shot indiscriminately at anyone who tried to defend themselves.

_For the first time as Rangers, they called a retreat. They needed to regroup, to put distance between their loses, just for now, and figure out a plan. They had to get back to Amber Beach, back to the lab, back to Keeper. More importantly, they had to get their enemies to follow, to leave the people of Zandar alone._

_It was a task easier said than done._

_The murderous White Ranger — if one could call him a Ranger — seemed disinterested in them now that he had Ivan’s Morpher and Energem. Which left them with no other option but to provoke._

_“Hey, Copy-cats!” Chase took a potshot at one of the other Black Rangers, shooting their weapon out of their hand. “Hate to tell you this but the role of Black Ranger is already filled! Understudies not needed!”_

Heckyl looked away from the edge of the building and back across the roof. Shelby and Chase were surrounded, the wall behind them already crumbling from Drakkon’s earlier attacks. He walked through the swarm of rangers, passing through them like a ghost. The other rangers were still on the street, unaware of what was about to happen. 

He reached his friends and stood between them, facing the encroaching horde. He reached out beside him and took their hands _Their weapons were drawn, both of their hands clutching them, afraid that to loosen their grip even slightly will send their only defense flying out of reach_. Shelby and Chase looked over, a confused line appearing between their brows.

“You trust me, don’t you?” Heckyl beamed at them, his breath puffing out as mist.

The cliff was high and the snow crunched under their feet. Below them was a steep drop ending in a frozen river.

Shelby frowned, looking _back at the false-Rangers closing in on them_ out at the vast drop behind of them. Snow drifted around them, soft and relaxing, enough to be pretty but not enough to block their view.

“Trust you?” she asked, meeting Heckyl’s gaze. He beamed at her.

“Fall with me?” he asked, taking a step toward the edge.

“Got to admit, as far as trust exercises go, this is a bit extreme,” Chase said, glancing back at _the crumbled wall and the fifty-foot onto hard cement… they could make that. No problem… they made that jump every single day…_ steep drop. 

Heckyl swung their hands in a show of playful nonchalance. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see their killers approached, see a few of them lifting up the device that would be the beginning of his two friends' end.

“Let’s test that out, shall we?”

He didn’t have the time to wait. He stepped back and pulled Shelby and Chase with him, pulling them away from the memory seconds before the _demorpher knocked them back, stop their powers, and sent them plummeting to the cement below._

“Heckyl!” Shelby screamed, her dark hair flying out past her face, while Chase just screamed beside them.

Heckyl closed his eyes and willed the dream to change, to make it safe, to make it happy. He let go of his friend’s hands and turned midair and they followed his lead. Suddenly, the air was gushing into their faces but lifting them up, almost cradling them as his magic transformed around them, sprouting wings where none had been before.

It took them a second but Shelby and Chase realized something had changed. The wings, massive creatures of fluffy white feathers, flapped behind them, lifting them up easily.

Behind them, the building faded away, lost to the snow and ash and time and memory.

* * *

_Pain. Pain until anything he had ever experienced before. Worse than losing Sentai 6. Worse than becoming Snide. It was indescribable. Like his soul was being torn asunder, not into another, evil being but as though the universe wanted to erase it — and him — from existence. This was the power of the darkest side of the universe, something that was never meant to be given form, never meant to be used._

_Never meant to be freed._

Don’t let me lose myself again! Oh… Please! Help! Anyone! Help! Please… Oh, God… please… NOOOO!

_A soft voice spoke to him through the pain, strong arms held him together. The voice spoke of forgiveness despite the betrayal Heckyl had committed against the voice’s owner._

_The pain faded, eased, disappeared. It was pulled out of him, taken away and consumed by another who had no bore no responsibility for it, who did not deserve the horror it promised._

“Shhhhh, I say. The old do not inherit the world, Heckyl. Tomorrow is always for the young.” _The grip around him tightened, tucking him close, keeping him safe._ “I will take this burden from you. I have bought you one final chance. I believe you can be so much more… Young Ranger.”

_The grip around him loosened… no, faded away._

“Zenowing!” _The darkness that had been moments away from consuming him had taken root in the older Ranger and flares of dark energy burst out of him, tearing him apart the way Heckyl had feared._ “No!”

“Try to be good, Heckyl.” _The voice was weak, far away, dying._ “Try to be happy. This time…”

_And, as sudden as a clap of thunder, then he was alone once again._


End file.
